Aphrodisiac
by Ghost Hand
Summary: noun: Something, such as a drug or food, arousing or intensifying sexual desire - A simple mistake leads to a night of passion. But in the aftermath Malik denies everything and Altaïr, with unknown motives, insists otherwise. The infamous enemies hit a bump in their friendship, one that could bring them closer or tear them apart. AltXMal, probably OOCness from my newb self.
1. Drugged

**This was originally going to be a pwp, but as I was writing up to the lemon it just took a different direction. ._. So I'm hoping to expand this into a multi-chapter rather than a oneshot and maybe even finish it! XD Also, my apologies for any mistakes; I didn't do research beyond what I've already heard/read and a little bit of imagination. Not to mention I don't have AC, and friends only let me ride around on the horses, 'cuz I always attract wayyyy too many guards and die so I'm not allowed to do missions. TwT**

**This is a bit of an AU world where Al Mualim did not betray the Order, but Altaïr still lost his rank many months before this fic takes place. He has since regained it. Just... roll with it, okay? ;w;**

**Disclaimer:** Obviously I'm just abusing Ubisoft's characters. If they were mine they'd be much worse off. :)

* * *

Altaïr set the bundle on the counter and shoved it forward. I raised an eyebrow. "What is this?"

"Lunch." Altaïr smirked. "A harlot gave this to me, saying she sees me pass by often. She thought I looked too busy to be eating well or something like that."

I rolled my eyes. "Come to brag about your way with women, then? Do you not have work to do, novice?"

He chuckled, leaning his hip against my counter like he owned it and crossing his arms. "I do. Which is why I came by to drop this off. I can't have this in the way while I run around."

I was about to tell him off about using my bureau to store his things and order him to carry his own belongings without complaint, but he quickly straightened and began walking away. "I'll return quickly, do not worry. Help yourself, if you'd like." Then he was gone.

I frowned deeply and glared at the parcel. It could be rigged or poisoned for all he knew, but the idiot took it anyway and thoughtfully dropped it in my lap. He truly was a novice. Cautiously I unwrapped the cheap cloth. No traps were triggered. Inside were a bread roll, some nuts, and a decanter. Thorough investigation showed no signs of poison in the food. I unstopped the decanter and sniffed. It was just goat's milk.

"Hm. So it truly was an innocent gift?" I shook my head and scoffed. "Then again, from a harlot, there probably isn't anything innocent about it. That oaf is just too thick to accept it that way, if he even realized it." Angry and bitter, as my mood usually is when Altaïr is involved, I rewrapped the gift and went to put it in the back.

Once beyond the curtain, however, I paused. Why should I do as he asks? I was not his mother, putting away his food. I looked down at the bundle in my hand and debated tossing it to the birds, or maybe giving it to a random street urchin. Neither was worth the bother though, and both were rather childish, so I took up his offer and dug into his lunch.

* * *

Sometime later that day I heard the soft thump of an assassin landing by the fountain. My heart raced even more than it was already and I silently willed for whoever it was to go away. I was not ready to deal with anyone yet. But then I heard them walk into the archive area and call out the usual greeting.

"Safety and peace, Malik." It was Altaïr.

I forced myself to my feet and stumbled to the doorway. It took longer than it should have, and I had to pause to brace myself against the wall.

"Malik? Are you hiding or ignoring me?"

That irritating no good… I gritted my teeth and threw back the partitioning curtain. Altaïr blinked. "Oh. There you are, brother. You do not look we-"

"You son of a whore! Allah damn you, you stupid novice!"

He held up his hands, confused but calm. "What fault did I commit to upset you this time?"

I maneuvered my way forward, gripping the edge of the counter to steady myself. "You and that damn thick head of yours! What kind of assassin accepts gifts from strangers? Anyone, for that matter! Children have more sense not to then you!"

Though his face was half hidden, his surprise was obvious. At least, to those who knew him, as it could be difficult to discern any emotion from his now usual stoic attitude. "You ate the lunch I brought you?"

If I could glare daggers, he would be dead ten times over. "Yes, you buffoon! Did you think I would honestly sit here with an empty stomach and not? That prostitute slipped something in it, though. Now I end up the one drugged instead of you!"

Altaïr leaned forward. "Shit. What about the immunities?" he asked, speaking of the building up of resistances to several poisons required during training. It was a process that, while dangerous, saved many assassin lives.

I shook my head. "Obviously it's not one of those, or else I would be feeling fine, idiot."

He clenched his hands. "Do you know what it is, then? Or if there is anything I can do?"

I already had a pretty good idea what the substance was; it wasn't deadly, but I would not dare share what I suspected with anyone if I could help it. I grabbed his collar roughly. "You wish to help? Leave. I will be fine in time, but not with you here."

He frowned. "Peace. I am only trying to make up for my mistake. Is that not part of what you've been telling me to do?"

I grimaced. That was true. But at the moment my anger was being ebbed away by something more powerful and it as getting harder to think straight. His presence was not helping matters. If I could be left alone for the rest of the day I could possibly ride out the drug without mishap.

"Yes. And you may make it up to me by getting out of my sight and far away from my bureau. Take a mission for a few days if you must. Just go."

The old Altaïr would have snapped and stormed off, even thrown a punch in for good measure. But damn if he wasn't paying attention to all the advice I'd been giving him. His mouth settled into a line and I knew he could tell something was amiss. He lifted a hand to my forehead and I flinched back. "You are not well. You have a fever. I think it best you lie down." He swung his legs over the countertop and I started to panic.

"No. I am fine. I can take care of myself, novice." I pushed on him in a weak attempt to stop his advance. He grabbed my wrist and pried my fingers from his cowl. Like taking care of someone fragile he nudged me toward the back room.

I planted my feet and twisted around, freeing my wrist. "I am not some child in your keep! For the last time, leave me be!"

I aimed for his head. He dodged and went to punch back. I followed past his arm and landed a blow to his back. He just as easily, if more gracefully, turned and blocked a second attack by grabbing my fist. He used the opening to push his arm against my chest and slam me into the bookcase, locking me in place with his leg and forearm.

The drug had me huffing from just that short exertion and my cheeks were hot. I stared fiercely at the man pinning me.

"Will you calm down? It is not a good idea to work yourself up like this. Is it not natural to assist a friend who is sick? I am not trying to make you upset, honestly. Yet it seems everything I do has the opposite effect!" He sighed and bowed his head against my shoulder. The anger was almost gone from me. His concern was indeed touching, but I couldn't let my guard drop at the moment. I was hyper-aware of the pressure holding me in place, the trapped helplessness, and his body awfully close to mine.

"Please Malik? Just… let me do _something_. It is my fault after all. I hate seeing you like this." His breath against my ear forced me to close my eyes and focus on steeling my will.

"Altaïr. I understand. But if you do not back away, I cannot guarantee what will happen to either of us. I do not wish to do something I may regret."

He turned his head at his name, confused. Since I didn't call him a novice I knew he realized how serious I was. "What do you mean?" he asked lowly.

This time he was tickling my neck with his words in a way that felt intimate to my sensitive skin. I couldn't help it when I squirmed and accidentally rubbed against his leg. I barely managed to stifle the noise of desperation wanting to escape me and faced away in shame. The damage had been done; he was bound to have felt the stiffness there, even through the layers of cloth. I imagined the shift in expression as he pieced together what it was, combined with the fever and weakness, and why I was desperate for him to leave. It was almost laughable.

Altaïr was quiet. "So… that food…"

I swallowed. "…Was drugged with an aphrodisiac, yes. She wanted you to sleep with her and figured an aphrodisiac was the way to do it. Now do you mind leaving me alone?"

The annoyance that was Altaïr did nothing of the sort. He merely paused a beat before whispering. "So, if I do this, you will…" He trailed off as he leaned further in to catch my earlobe between his teeth.

My eyes snapped open. "Stop that." He nibbled and I bit my lip. "I said stop." He added his tongue. "You bastard…" I tried to crane my head away, which in hindsight was a stupid move. I was about to shout and attempt to slap him, but then he assaulted my neck with his mouth, working his way up to my jaw in a wet line and sending a tremor down my spine. "What do you think you are doing?" I hissed as harshly as I could.

"What does it look like? I am teasing you," he murmured against my jugular. "It is highly amusing how easily you react. Normally I'd have to do much more to get you this riled up."

I struggled to find words, caught between flaring anger and raging hormones. In the end I made another feeble attempt to free myself and settled on what I knew best: threats and insults. "Altaïr, you camel shit! If I wasn't so weakened by this damn drug the Brotherhood would be cleaning your corpse from my floor by now!"

I could feel him smile. "See? If I'd known aphrodisiacs would make you like this I'd have given you some long ago."

I paused. "You… Did you… do it on purpose? Allah damn it all. Did you give me the food knowing it was drugged? Was there even a prostitute to begin with!?" I was incredulous as he pressed his body closer to mine and I felt something foreign yet instantly recognizable prod my hip. It was not nearly as hard as mine, but it was insistent and effectively stopped my rant while causing my body to flush.

My fists clenched tighter as he spoke. "I should make this clear to you: I did not plan this." He raised his head so his face was mere centimeters from my own. "I am sorry for what I unintentionally did. I'm just seizing the opportunity that has arisen. What happens next is up to you; I can help you with this by relieving your pain, or I can leave you to burn out for hours, possibly days and I will make sure no one intrudes during that time."

That damn man had me trapped between a rock and a hard place- literally. I couldn't believe what he was offering. In fact I had to rerun his words through my head several times to make sure I understood him correctly. He definitely seemed to mean it. Nevermind the fact that he and I were both men, he was willing to go through with it, though for his own sake or mine I couldn't tell. He _wanted_ to continue. The only thing holding him back was my decision.

Either I gave some kind of sign or my silence was too long to wait for an answer because the arm against my chest slowly slid to my hip. My breath sped up a fraction. His lips ghosted over mine, across my cheek, and down to my collarbone. My heartbeat pounded my ears, drowning out any objection and look, there were his hands, slowly unfastening my robes and working around me. When my remaining arm became free it simply dropped to my side as his mouth slid lower. I just left him to his work and let the drug take over, being consumed by both until my thoughts were nothing but heat and feeling.


	2. Confusion

**Sorry this took so long to put up! I already had it typed but I completely forgot I was writing this. XD**

**Disclaimer:** I clearly do not own Ubisoft's characters. If I did they'd be incredibly gay...

* * *

Dust was drifting gently in the air above my head. Every movement I made stirred it, so I lay there, listening to the sound of myself breathe for a while. I was confused and groggy and sore, but I couldn't really remember why. Last night was a mess in my mind, and for the life of me I couldn't figure out how I even got to my bed of pillows and blankets that was set up in the back room of the bureau.

I rubbed my face and slowly sat up. The blankets shifted and I looked down. When the hell did I get undressed? Yawning, I rose with the blankets around my shoulders and searched for my personal chest.

Suddenly my foot caught on something. I regained my balance and saw I'd tripped on white cloth. Well, there was yesterday's clothes. I kicked them out of the way to wash later and rummaged around for clean ones. After dressing I shuffled out to my main station. My legs were aching as if I'd exercised for hours on end. The back of my head hurt as well, and when I rubbed it I felt a bump. Interesting.

The area behind my counter was a mess; books were off the shelf, papers on the floor, my inkwell was tipped, and several maps were crinkled. Between that and how bad I felt I figured there was a fight. One which I didn't remember, so I might have been unconscious.

I quickly scanned over my inventory to see if anything was missing. At first glance nothing was gone, just out of place, and I was about to check again but then I thought more on it. I'd woken up naked and in my pillows, covered by blankets. Why would a thief go through that trouble yet leave this room in disarray?

I shuffled around, tidying up. What exactly went on last night? There as clearly a struggle and someone who could get the best of me would not be an ordinary burglar. Popping my head out to the front room, I saw the grate securely in place. Nothing was disturbed. So whoever it was did not force their way in, which narrowed the suspects down to an assassin. That fact alone narrowed it down to the one assassin who would bother putting me to bed after a fight.

I sneered. Altaïr. I managed to drudge up some fuzzy memories of yesterday. He had come over with food from a prostitute, and I had eaten it and fallen ill. He must have taken advantage of my weakened state and landed a lucky shot. The next time I saw him he'd be getting an earful from me.

There was a knocking from the roof and a hooded head came into view. Speak of the devil.

"Malik. You're looking better. Mind if I come in?"

"I think I prefer you out there, thank you very much," I droned. Then I went back to the other room and resumed cleaning up.

"Why?" he called after me. "Are you _still_ angry with me?"

I huffed. "How could I not be? You left my bureau a sty and my head is killing me thanks to you. Not to mention you practically poisoned yesterday."

"Well… I thought you were over that last one…" He sounded off. The guilt must've been creeping in. Good.

"No, novice. I'm not. I may have hit my head hard enough not to remember much of the previous evening, but I haven't forgotten that, nor am I letting it go any time soon."

Finally my cleaning was complete, aside from fixing the maps and getting new ink. I decided he had enough baking in the sun; it was time to yell at him face-to-face. I sauntered back to the main chamber.

"You don't remember last night?" he asked almost hesitantly as the grate as removed. Like a hawk landing on its prey he dropped down in front of me.

"No, I do not remember much. You must be happy about that. I do distinctly recall being slammed into a bookcase," I grumbled. He flinched. "Since I do not remember lecturing you on your stupidity yesterday, however, I am perfectly fine with doing so again."

Altaïr followed as I returned to straightening the maps. "Malik. Exactly how much do you remember?"

"Enough to figure out you, in your endless idiocy, decided to attack me. That's rather treasonous now that I think about it," I said, bored.

"I- what? I did not attack you. It was self-defense. You came after me," he accused.

I glared at him. "Why would I be lowly enough to throw the first blow? Did you say something so offensive?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed as if he was frustrated with me- _me_! "If you do not remember what the argument was about, then I will not remind you." Then he muttered "it would probably not be in my favor not to."

Altaïr trudged out to the fountains, and a moment later I heard the splashing of him washing up. I rubbed my neck in exasperation. The action caused me to wince; the flesh was tender there. Curious I fetched a mirror.

My neck and collarbone had unmistakable bruises on them. I frowned. Who would mark me as theirs? The only person I'd come in contact with the last couple of days was Altaïr, and surely he didn't…

It dawned on me that there is another reason for morning soreness. I remembered a feverish heat after eating the tampered food and then the feeling of being trapped and exposed. There was pressure from a man in assassin robes and his voice in my ear. The rest of the night flooded over me. Altaïr did not just fight with me.

"Altaïr." My voice wavered slightly from the revelation. I was clammy as I set the mirror down and gripped the edge of the counter. I faced the wall, my rigid back to the entrance of the main room. "Altaïr," I called a little louder.

"Yes, Malik?" I heard him come to the doorway, but I didn't turn around.

"Tell me, why did you come after me last night? When you learned it was an aphrodisiac I ingested, your behavior changed."

A pause. "So now you remember what transpired?"

"Just answer the question."

He shifted. "I told you why last night; I couldn't help myself. I was relieved to hear that I had not unintentionally fed you deadly poison, and resumed behaving as normal between us without worrying terribly about your well-being. But then seeing you act the way you were, with those noises you made at the lightest touch… I gave up simply teasing you. I held back as much as I could, but you kept wanting more."

I dug my nails into the wood. It was not common nor socially acceptable for two men to copulate with one another. Among assassins it was overlooked, since there were more important things to worry about, but that was not the point. "I find this hard to believe. It is more likely you took advantage of the drug and forced me-"

"I did no such thing!" He was loud and serious. "I would never do something like that against another's will. Perhaps the old Altaïr would have, but not me. I have changed; I have more sensibility and honor. You know this. You were the one to instill it in me."

I spun around. "Then why would you do that? You violate my trust. You could have simply helped me to my room, or left me alone as I requested. That besides, as an assassin you should have the willpower against any temptation."

He stepped closer. "Then you underestimate me when it comes to you. I have resisted, and I did, but despite that you still wanted it to happen. In case your selective memory has forgotten, I gave you a choice. I offered you release, told you that I could help you by staying or help you by leaving and you chose to have me there."

"I never said yes!"

"And you never said no! You said nothing. You could have stopped me at any time with just one word, but you didn't, Malik."

The silence was heavy in the air. I did not want to hear him speak anymore. The Altaïr I had slowly grown to forgive over these months and even build a tentative friendship with had ruined everything in one swift motion once more.

"Altaïr. You have betrayed my trust. You seduced me and even worse, show that you have not grown as much as I'd thought. I may never forgive this."

His mouth set in a grim line as he chose his response carefully. "That is not the truth, Malik. You are willingly blinding yourself to the truth. I suppose you are the one that has not grown." He exited the chamber and stood atop a fountain, preparing to climb up.

"I will be leaving on a mission for a few days. Perhaps by the time I return you will have a clearer head." The assassin vanished, leaving no time for argument.


End file.
